Wednesday, November 6, 2013

of an absence

Early this year—in February, maybe January—my writing group had a conversation about writing out of loss. All of us decided we were writers of loss. For me, this was easy to identify. Piece of cake. I can write out of loss all day long. Give me some real grief, and I'll just make something out of it.

This is all to apologize for not writing here. For not just not writing, but for letting my blog domain name expire. Shoot. It's okay. The blog domain name doesn't matter.

What does matter is that in February I was introduced to a guy named Brian. My friend said he was an architect and that he liked smart girls. The first time I saw his face, I thought: That is a good, very kind man.

I did not fall in love instantly, or even over the next couple of weeks and months. But, getting to know him provided a slow and then daily accrual of goodness and lightness and joy. And, so I did not write about it. Forgive me.

Because now we're getting married!

My cousin says she can tell he is "helpful and nourishing". Perhaps there was a time when this compliment would have been boring. But oh dear people, this is what it looks like in real life:

The other day I stopped by his house after a long day of printing at the studio. It was 9:30pm. I was starving—as usual. As soon as I walked in the door, he said, Can I get you something to eat? Oatmeal squares with bananas? We talked about our day while he organized a bowl of cereal + fruit for me. His day was good. My day was good. I showed him a capital, italic "J" from the print I was working on in the studio. I told him how much I loved the fancy "J" and how I was sad there was only one in the paragraph. I told him I wished there was a way to get another "J" in there.

Without skipping a beat he suggested, Jubilee.

Post Edit: Brian would like me to tell everyone that all he had to offer me was oatmeal squares. Also, "Jubilee" was not his first suggestion. It was allegedly, according to him, preceded by 3 or 4 other words and phrases—but, "Jubilee" is all I remember from that conversation :)

And: Thank you to my lovely friend Kristin for allowing Brian and I to tromp around in the gravel/dirt and Russian olive trees of Saratoga Springs while she took some photographs. More of her work here.

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Georgia O'Keefe

"The summer I spent in Taos I sometimes rode out to the eastern hills late in the afternoon with the sun at my back. No one else seemed to go there. When the sun went down and was not shining in my eyes I would ride back to the Pueblo. The plain was covered with the grey sage that in a few places crept up a bit against the base of the mountains, looking like waves lapping against the shore. It was a widewide quiet area. But out in those hills I picked up mussel shells in groups all turned to stone—probably millions of years old. They sometimes even had a little bit of the original blue color. I carried them back and left them somewhere in the unknown. I haven’t seen any more shells like them and haven’t seen a sea of sage like that either."

Love is the ultimate outlaw

"Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice. instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words make and stay become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free." —Tim Robbins

The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life — the life God is sending one day by day. ~The Collected Works of C.S. Lewis